In the Arms of Mischief
by Feygan
Summary: Heading to meet Xena, Gabrielle runs into some trouble she can't handle on her own. Death Fic.


Title: In the Arms of Mischief  
Author: Feygan  
Fandom: Xena/Hercules  
Characters: Gabrielle, Xena, Ares, Strife  
Disclaimer: I do not own Xena: Warrior Princess or Hercules: the Legendary Journeys.

WARNING: violence. rape. character death.

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Pain. Her entire body was wrapped tight in pain. Even breathing made her want to scream in agony.

She couldn't _quite_ remember how she had gotten here, but she had the sneaking suspicion that she was never going to leave, not alive anyway.

The taunting voices that were constantly shifting around her were like a promise that she was going to die here. They were going to use her until her skin split wide open and there was nothing left but blood and sinew.

When hands began touching her broken flesh again, she didn't even have the strength to scream. All she could do was open her mouth wide and a breathy gargle came out. Then a cock was shoved between her lips and she was gagging as it slammed repeatedly into the back of her throat and if she had had anything left in her belly she would have vomited. And dirty fingers were being shoved up inside her while something painful jabbed into her anus and...

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She was walking through the woods, the end of her staff thumping against the ground in time with her steps.

She felt light and happy with the thought that she was on her way to meet Xena. They had split up for a few days, and she wanted more than anything to see the other woman.

"Hey, what we got here?" a rough voice asked.

She gasped and turned, finding four dirty men in rough armor standing behind her. She couldn't believe that they had managed to come up on her without her noticing, but there was no time for self-recriminations. Just looking at them, she knew they were trouble.

"What do you want?" she asked, her chin going out a little as she brought her staff up defensively.

The leader of the group laughed. "Well aren't you sassy for a whore."

"What? I'm not a whore!"

He waved a hand at her outfit. "You dress like one, with all that leg and belly showin'. So why don't you be a good girl and put down the stick so we can have some fun. We might even pay you if you do a good job."

Yelling in rage, she threw herself at him, her staff whirring out to whap him on the chest. He flew backward with a curse of pain. She spun to face the others and began striking out with her staff and feet.

She had just knocked the last of them down and was panting a little, trying to get her breath under control when she got a crawling sensation on the back of her neck. She spun around, but it was too late as a tree branch slammed into her jaw.

She hit the ground hard, unable to control her fall. Then they were kicking her, cursing loudly. She tried to curl into a ball to protect her face and neck, but that left her spine open to stomping boots. Then she heard the crack and felt the pain as her left arm was broken, and her head snapped back as one of them kicked her in the mouth, knocking out a few teeth.

When it was over, she lay helplessly on the ground, dazed and in so much pain that she couldn't even try to crawl away.

"Dumb bitch," the leader said. She blinked at him through puffing eyes and had the satisfaction of seeing him clutch his chest with one arm. "We're gonna have to teach you a lesson."

She could barely moan as her arms and legs were stretched out wide, the movement of her broken arm jolting agony through her entire left side. A pained whine escaped her throat as her clothes were cut off of her and the first man lowered his pants.

All she could do was close her eyes and wish for unconsciousness as he shoved himself inside her with brutal abruptness. He began mindlessly thrusting, his foul breath hot against the side of her face as he grunted away, harder and harder. She felt something twist and tear and the dry passage inside her gushed with sudden sharp pain and wetness.

And when he shuddered and came, pulling out and stepping away, she couldn't even cry. Then the next one took his place and...

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When she came back to herself, she was still lying where she had been thrown, even more blood seeping into the ground around her and the pain magnified far past unbearable.

_Hel... help me_, she thought, her mind hazy and unfocused. _Someone_, anyone, _help me_.

There was a muffled flash of light, then somewhere she heard the sound of scuffling bodies, the dull WHUMP! of light and heat, the SHING! of a blade, screams, then silence.

Lying on her back, staring straight up at the stars, her view was blocked out by the blob of a human-shaped head.

"How ya doin', kid?"

The dark shadow knelt beside her and she trembled, wanting more than anything to be able to jerk away but unable to do anything but lie their helplessly. And when a long, cool hand was laid against her bare stomach, she couldn't even scream.

Except... that touch wasn't bringing her more pain. It just gently rested against her flesh and cool relief spread from it in a faster and faster wave until the pain was nothing but a dull ache, faded enough that she didn't feel the overwhelming need to open her mouth and scream and scream and SCREAM.

With the pain pushed into the background, she was finally able to see and recognize her companion.

"Why..." Gabrielle managed through cracked and bleeding lips, her voice coming out as a hissing rasp. She could barely recognize herself. It made salty tears seep from the corners of her eyes to think that she would never be able to practice her bardic craft ever again.

Strife reached out and touched her forehead, as grave an expression as he ever wore on his face. "Yer wunna mine, Gabby. Ya called me, and here I am ta help ya."

"N... not... not yours."

A faint amused look rippled over his face, almost too fast to be seen. "Ya may not wanna acknowledge me, but yer still wunna mine. Everywhere ya go, emotional and physical strife follows. And when ya called fer me, I answered."

She wanted to force him away from her, but she didn't have the emotional fortitude left in her to do that. She wanted out of here, and she didn't care who saved her as long as she could be _away_.

"Take... take me... Xena?" She stared up at him, barely able to see him through the darkness that had closed so tight around her vision.

Vaguely, she heard him sigh heavily, leaning further over her. "Sorry, Gabby. Ya waited too long, and there are some things not even a god can do."

"Wha... what do you mean?" she asked, blinking hazily.

He turned his head to look at someone behind him. "Ya can come over now."

There was the sound of boots crunching on the ground and a figure in armor, a swirling dark cape, and a helm appeared. Somewhere inside her, she felt the spark of recognition and relief. "You are done?" the deep voice asked.

Strife nodded. "Yeah. There's nothin' I can do here. And I don't think she's goin' to take it as the truth from me alone."

The figure nodded and turned its head to focus on her.

She blinked, and he was suddenly standing right over her. "It is time to get up. There is a long journey ahead for you."

"Wha..." She didn't understand, though something was trying to press in on her mind, some kind of deeper understanding that she really didn't want to accept.

Strife reached out, his hands somehow passing _through_ her body to grasp something deep inside her and pulled it out.

It was strange and uncomfortable and even though she struggled there was nothing she could do to stop it. The rushing sensation of light and sound closing tight around her as she was somehow pulled out of her body and released from the prison of her flesh, the pain left behind.

She found herself standing next to Strife, her skin glowing with a warm light. Her body was wrapped in the folds of a pale blue robe, her bare feet not even feeling the ground beneath her.

"What... what happened?" she asked, her voice sounding strange in her own ears, kind of distant with this hollow echo.

"It is your time," Hades said. "You will come with me."

She knew she should have been shocked and horrified, but it felt like the most natural thing to think that she was dead. "Why are you here? Shouldn't it be Hermes?"

Hades shrugged his shoulders and waved a hand at Strife. "As one of the favored of a god, no matter how minor, you are entitled to my personal touch."

Gabrielle turned to Strife. "I'm one of your favored?"

He quirked his lips. "Was there ever any doubt? How do ya think ya managed to survive so long?"

She should have hated the thought of being tied to the god of Mischief, but freed from her body, she had left much of her living ideas behind. It was actually kind of nice to think that someone had been looking out for her. "Why didn't you save me?" she asked, pointing down at the shell she had discarded so recently. It looked so empty lying there sprawled on the ground, covered in blood and bruises and all the signs of violence. It didn't look anything like _her_.

"Ya didn't call for me."

Ephemeral tears trickled down her cheeks, which was strange since she didn't really feel sad at all. "So this is the end."

Strife wrapped his arms around her. "Nah, this is only the beginning."

With Strife on one side of her and Hades on the other, she followed them down the pathway that opened up before them, taking them into the light. "Okay."

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=THE END=

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End file.
